Waking Up
by DkaMarieka753
Summary: AH, BPOV. Bella and Edward are in high school. Edward is a popular jerk, Bella is just a nobody. They have a history that Edward seems to have forgotten and Bella can't forget. What happens when Edward shows up at Bella's house one night?
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:**** Hey guys... Long time no see, huh? I decided that I don't really like to write that much. But when inspiration hits, well... this is what happened. Just a short drabble about Edward and Bella in Bella's POV, all- human. It's still in progress, and it's in two parts; the only problem is, I don't know how it should end, positively or negatively. I'm thinking negatively. Hmmm... read part one and tell me what you think**.

**Waking Up, Part 1**

_Bzzzt._

_Bzzzt._

My phone buzzed against the metal frame of my bed, and I blinked sleepily. I picked up the phone and looked at who was calling me.

My heart gave a painful lurch, and I sat up, now fully aake. I glanced at the clock, confused as hell- it was two in the morning. Why on earth was _he_ calling me, let alone at two in the morning on a Saturday night? I flipped open my phone and answered.

"Hello?"

"_'m outside," _his voice slurred loudly.

"Shh!" I hushed him. "Outside where?"

"_Yer house," _he said, quieter this time.

"_What?"_

_"'m outside yer house!" _He enunciated stupidly.

I crawled to the edge of my bed and looked out the window. Sure enough, there was a little red Taurus parked in the parking lot next to my house, and as I looked, I both saw and heard the door open, and the contents of his stomach were soon splattered on the ground. I grimaced.

"I'll be right out," I told him tiredly.

I climbed out of bed and padded down the stairs silently. If my mom woke up, I'd be dead 50 times over. I grabbed a towel from the downstairs bathroom and tip toed out the back door, making sure it didn't shut behind me. I walked over to his car, where he was slumped over in the driver's seat. Avoiding the pungent- smelling puke on the pavement, I touched im lightly on the shoulder. He moaned and looked up. He reeked of alcohol.

"You're drunk!" I accused him. He just laughed. I sighed and started cleaning him up. As much of a jerk as he had been, I wasn't going to let him drive like that. He still meant something to me- although I wasn't sure exactly what that was- and I'd take care of him.

I took his hand and pulled him out of the car, wincing as his head hit the door frame. He yelled, and I shushed him quickly. "Dumbass," I muttered under my breath. I took him up the stairs and through the hall to the bathroom that had a shower. I turned the water on and told him to strip. He guffawed, and I rolled my eyes and turned around. I had to stay in the bathroom in case my mom woke up and asked me why I happened to be taking a shower at two in the morning. Also, if he tripped and knocked himself out and drowned in my shower, I'd have some major explaining to do.

He finally turned the water off. Without turning around, I handed him a towel.

"Wrap yourself up in that and I'll get you some clean clothes in a minute."

"You can turn around now," he said presently. I did, and I tried not to be affected by the sight. I never thought he'd look so good with just a towel around his waist. He grinned crookedly, as if he knew what I was thinking, and I flushed. I whirled huffily and I silently lead him to my room. I sat him down on my bed and went to my dresser, giving him some basketball shorts and an old blink- 182 shirt to wear. I turned on my heating blanket to medium and then turned around again wordlessly. I tried not to think too hard about why he was there as he pulled on the shorts and struggled with the shirt. "Done," he said, and I glanced at him. He had a peculiar look on his face, and almost without thinking, I grabbed the trash can.

He threw up into it noisily and I winced, hoping my own stomach could handle the sight and smell. Once he was done, I put the trash can on the ground next to the bed. He definitely smelled better after his shower, and he looked a little healthier too. His hair clung in tendrils to his forehead, and beads of water rolled steadily down his face and neck. I blinked, concentrating, pushed him lightly onto the bed. I even tucked him in, and he chuckled. He seemed oddly relaxed with the whole awkward situation he had put us in. I stood next to the bed and pondered a minute. I hesitantly climbed in next to him, and he gave me a puzzled look.

"I don't want you choking on your puke in your sleep," I explained brusquely. And it was true, but I was only giving him one reason.

As we lay there in the quiet darkness, I thought. I thought about the past: he was the preppy jock, I was the choir nerd; we had spent time together; I had had a big crush on him, he treated me like I was a loser, I pretended that I didn't care. He had taught me a little about driving last summer; every Wednesday night in August we would drive around, sometimes until 11:30 at night. I thought about the present: why had he come _here? _Why _me?_ And I thought about the future: how was I going to sneak him out of here without my mom noticing? Would he actually talk to me again? Truthfully, I had never stopped loving him, even if it was completely unrequited.

In just a few minutes, he was snoring softly next to me. I smiled affectionately, dropping the grumpy mask I had on, and brushed the messy hair out of his face. I scoffed at myself; I was pathetic. He was using me... and I loved it.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: This actually two flashbacks. Just so ya'll know.

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It's two in the morning. We're on a coach bus in the bench seat in the back, on our way back from down south, where our church has just gone on a week-long mission trip. We're just chatting. Or trying to- I keep saying things to get the conversation going, and he doesn't take the bait.

"Gah!" I say. "I keep trying to make conversation with you but you don't answer me!" I tell him. We're one of the few people still awake.

"Sorry!" He says. "Try again."

I say the first thing that comes to mind.

"I'd really like to sleep, but I can't get comfortable."

"Here," he says, "I'll help you get comfortable."

This sounds like a corny pick up line, so I don't say anything, just seeing what he'll do. He grabs his pillow and pivots his torso towards me, and then he lays the pillow over his chest. He pats it invitingly.

"Seriously?"

"Sure, c'mon."

I lay down cautiously on his pillow- on him- and I can hear him texting over my head. Pretty soon I'm asleep.

"Can I have a ride?" I ask, already knowing what the answer will be.

"Sure," he says easily.

We walk out to his car- a little red car that I absolutely love. I get in the passenger's side, and he starts the car and turns on the radio. Great... more rap.

"Rap? Really?" I say.

"Fuck yeah!" he says enthusiastically. "Rap is cool."

I just shake my head. We've had this conversation before. He pulls out of the parking lot and starts driving me home- just a few blocks away. I seize the moment.

"Do we have to go home, or..."

"Well what else would we do?"

"I dunno. Drive. We could go to Memorial."

He turns onto a different street, one leading away from my house. I'm excited; I really like spending time with him, even if I do get flustered, and even if I do sound stupid most of the time. Because he asks, I explain to him about my parents' messy divorce that happened just last summer. He winces in all the right places. When I'm done, he pauses.

"Well, fuck!"

"No thanks," I joke.

"Ha, ha," he says sarcastically, "you're funny.

"Okay, you look for porch monkeys, and point them out to me." He pulls his purple vuvuzela out from underneath his seat.

I roll my eyes. Soon I see some people walking down the street. I point them out, and he blows the vuvuzela at them and speeds away, and we're both laughing. It's 9:30 at night, and there aren't many people around outside, so that idea quickly loses potential.

He takes a right onto a narrow, twisting road that goes up Memorial Hill. We take the road all the way up to the top... and head back down again. When we're about halfway down, he suddenly stops and burns rubber.

"That is so bad for my tires. I really just fucked them up." I just laugh.

Soon enough, we're driving in the boondocks, out in the middle of nowhere. He's going 80 miles an hour since we're not in the city limits, and I absolutely love how free I feel.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Sorry for such a short chapter, guys. This was supposed to be a drabble, and now it's, like, a midget story. Hm. I guess that's what happens when you write in class instead of doing your homework like you should be. Oops.**

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I jumped as something long and warm stretched across my side.

I lifted my head a little, and last night's events came rushing back to me as hot morning breath blew across my face and neck. His arm was slung over my side, and his fingers were splayed across my bare stomach where my shirt had ridden up. His face was buried in my hair in the crook of my neck, and his had was serving as my pillow. Our legs were interwoven, and my heart fluttered at the intimate position we had wound up in.

I grimaced, laying my head back down; had I cuddle- raped him in our sleep? We were spooning, for Christ's sake! Spooning in Forks, hah. I shrugged mentally and decided to indulge while I could. I rolled over slowly and carefully in his arms. His snoring ceased, and he mumbled incoherently.

He snuggled closer, resting his head on top of mine. I buried my face in his shoulder and inhaled his scent; somehow, he smelled good, even after being completely wasted. I wrapped my arms around him and hugged him closer, and I fell asleep easily.


	4. Chapter 4

"Uuuugh…" I felt it more than heard it, and I shivered a little- _here comes the hard part, _I thought: _waking up._

I pretended to be asleep, delaying the inevitable. I felt him slide his hand out from under my head, and I realized we were still in the same position as we had been last night, only now my arms lazily encircled his chest. I kept my breathing slow and even as he groaned again. I imagined him rubbing his face, trying to wake up. Waking up was hard for him, too, albeit for completely different reasons.

I felt him freeze, and I guessed it was because he was finally fully conscious.

"Shit," he breathed. "Shit, shit, shit." I concentrated on not wincing. I was so stupid for thinking this would change anything about us. His muttered curses hurt more than a punch to the face possibly could.

Being a true masochist, and still pretending I was asleep, I sighed breathily and nuzzled my hose in the space between his chin and his shoulder.

He exhaled unsteadily. I yearned to hear it again, a physical pain manifested in my throat.

Suddenly I felt his fingers sliding underneath my hair along my neck. Gently, he moved all my hair away from my face. He kept his hand against my neck, and he carefully brushed his thumb back and forth.

This was torture.

I couldn't take it anymore; I brought my arm that was slung over him to my face, and rubbed my eyes blearily. He pulled his hand back quickly and I tried not to wince again. I rolled over to my back, untangling my legs from his and pulling my arm out from underneath him. I yawned and stretched, giving him time to recover. I blinked several times, hamming it up a little. I glanced over at him and smiled a small smile. His hair was messy and sticking up in every direction, and he was still all sleepy-eyed. It was adorable.

"Hi," I said cautiously. This was all so weird; I didn't know where we stood.

"Hey," he said back. "Ummm…"

"Hey, now," I said lightly. "It's only awkward if you make it awkward," I repeated one of his favorite phrases.

"We're in the same bed. Together. How is that not awkward?" He said disbelievingly.

Rejection washed over me, and my eyes stung. "Dude. You're the one who came to my house, completely wasted, in the middle of the night! This is all on you," I said defensively.

"Touché," he said, effectively closing the subject.

"Why did you come here?" I asked him; I was genuinely confused. "Why not someone else's house? It's not like you don't have 8 billion other friends who would gladly take you in."

"True," he said, and I thought he was going to avoid the question. I was about to protest when he continued. "I guess I was driving- which probably wasn't a good idea- and it reminded me of all the times we drove this summer, and how you'd bitch to me, and I guess I figured you wouldn't mind."

I was amused. And annoyed. "I wouldn't mind? You wake me up and… intrude on my house after not giving me the time of day at school , and I take good care of you, which, frankly, you don't even deserve, and you think I won't mind?"

"Hey, I was drunk!" He defended himself. I just scoffed "And besides, he said knowingly, "you don't mind, do you?"

I sighed. He had a point. "No," I admitted reluctantly, "I don't. But I do feel… used."

He quirked an eyebrow. "How is that?"

I paused a minute, gathering my thoughts. He made a noise of protest, and I held up a finger. He was patient. "School," I began. "You don't talk to me unless you need help on your chemistry. That's not fair to me. I want a friend from you, not a study buddy. I need… emotional support or whatever. This summer, you gave that to me really well. When I was with you, all of my issues- Lauren, Tyler, my mom, my dad- they all disappeared. I was really happy. I loved that. And then school started and everything changed. You changed. You said we were friends, but friends just don't do that to each other." I paused. "Can I be completely honest here?" He nodded. "I think that when something bad happens to a person, the person reaches out to the first steady thing they find. For me, that was you. I needed you. You realize that?"

He studied my face for a minute. I flushed and looked down, studying my hands awkwardly. I hadn't meant to tell him all that, honestly. I had been holding it all in for so long after seeing him every day, though, that it wasn't a big surprise that it all came out. I glanced up at him nervously. He smiled a crooked smile, and I swear my heart stopped. He put his hands over mine to still them, and sighed.

"Would you believe me if I told you I had no idea I was doing that to you?" He asked quietly.

"That's why I told you."

He took one of my hands in both of his, and started playing with it, tracing my fingers and the lines on my palm. I studied his face carefully, inspecting it, wondering if I could find a difference, since there obviously was one. He didn't even look up, though, still messing around with my hand. I did something I had been dying to do for a long time: with my free hand, I pushed his messy hair out of his face gently. He looked up through his lashes, and with my hand still in his hair, he leaned in slowly, tauntingly.

The atmosphere changed easily. He brushed his nose lightly against mine. My breath hitched. He brushed his lips just barely against mine. He was driving me crazy. He pulled back, just slightly, and then did it again. This time, I pushed my bottom lip between his, and gave him a real kiss. It was gentle, and sweet, and nothing I thought would ever happen between us. He pulled back first, and I opened my eyes- I didn't even realize I had closed them realizing what had just happened, I snatched my hand from his hair and I blushed furiously. I refused to meet his eyes. He took my chin and tilted my face up towards his.

"Hey," he said softly, sweetly. "What's wrong?"

"Reality check," I whispered. "Will you act the same way around me when we're around other people? Don't use me. Don't make me fall if you aren't going to catch me." I looked him directly in the eye, waiting for his response.


	5. Chapter 4 Part 2

**A/N: Sorry guys. I know I suck at this. **

**I've been revising and editing a bunch of stuff so I'll fix stuff soon. And I did't feel like the next chapter in line was suitable to put up yet, so instead I'm putting chapter four in his point of view up. **

**Yes, you read that right. His point of view. **

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**Hopefully there'll be more chapters in his point of view to come. I already have 2 done... so here you are, chapter four, folks.**

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"Uuuugh…" I groaned loudly as my head spun. It felt like a fucking jackhammer was busting its way into my skull. God damn. Vodka is not my friend.

I slid my hand out from under something, and I rubbed my eyes. I opened them, and that did not help. At all. I groaned loudly again. I looked around the unfamiliar bedroom, trying to figure out where I was. I realized, all of a sudden, that there was something- no, some_one- _lying next to me. When I realized it was her, I felt a really fucking terrible sinking feeling in my gut. I couldn't remember a thing from last night, aside from driving here. Had I fucked her while I was drunk?

"Shit," I breathed. "Shit, shit, shit." My arm was around her, and her arms were wrapped around my chest. She was facing me, and she looked so damn cute when she slept. Our legs were interwoven, and I felt so fucking terrible. I didn't remember fucking her. But I didn't remember anything.

She rubbed her nose in between my shoulder and my chin, and my breath left me all fucking unsteadily. I would hate myself forever if I had hurt her last night. I slid my fingers underneath her hair to get it away from her neck, 'cause I knew she hated that shit. I didn't move my hand, though. I rubbed my thumb back and forth against the pale column of her neck, savoring the moment.

She moved the arm that was on top of me to her face, and she rubbed the sleep out of her eyes. I snatched my hand back, sure that she hated me for whatever happened last night. If something did. If I fucking screwed up her whole world. She rolled over and pulled her legs away from mine, and yanked her arm out from underneath me. I just watched her. She blinked awake, and looked over at me. She had a small grin on, and I took that as a good sign.

"Hi," she said softly.

"Hey," I said, not really sure where to start with this whole fucked up mess. "Ummm…"

"Hey, now," she said. Her voice was still all rough with sleep. "It's only awkward if you make it awkward."

She was quoting me, and I was surprised she remembered me saying that. I smiled inside, but outside I was starting to get defensive. Even though she hadn't accused me of anything yet. And even though I really fucking deserved it if she did. "We're in the same bed. Together. How is that not awkward?" I was thinking she'd tell me if something had happened. I couldn't look at her. It wasn't that the idea of fucking her was revolting; the complete opposite was true, actually. It's just that if I had fucked her while I was completely wasted, like last night, I definitely wouldn't be treating her right.

"Dude." She sounded all indignant, and it was a little humorous, seeing as how she was about half my size. "You're the one who came to my house, completely wasted, in the middle of the night! This is all on you."

I was beyond relieved. Nothing happened. I was almost sure she would have said something by now. Me getting in her pants would definitely be something to throw in my face at this point. "Touché," I said, not trusting myself to say much more.

"Why did you come here?" She asked abruptly. "Why not someone else's house? It's not like you don't have 8 billion other friends who would gladly take you in."

"True," I said, stopping to recollect my hazy memories from last night. "I guess I was driving- which probably wasn't a good idea- and it reminded me of all the times we drove this summer, and how you'd bitch to me, and I guess I figured you wouldn't mind."

"I wouldn't mind? You wake me up and… intrude on my house after not giving me the time of day at school, and I take good care of you, which, frankly, you don't even deserve, and you think I won't mind?"

"Hey, I was drunk!" Which was never happening again. "And besides," I said, taking a risk, "you don't mind, do you?"

She sighed reluctantly. "No. I don't. But I do feel… used."

I quirked an eyebrow, terrified all over again. "How is that?" I asked shakily. She didn't answer, and I made an impatient noise. She held up a finger, and I felt my heartbeat slow a bit. She wouldn't be giving me _that_ finger if I had done something last night.

"School," she started. "You don't talk to me unless you need help on your chemistry. That's not fair to me. I want a friend from you, not a study buddy. I need… emotional support or whatever. This summer, you gave that to me really well. When I was with you, all of my issues-" I winced as she listed them off- "they all disappeared. I was really happy. I loved that. And then school started and everything changed. You changed. You said we were friends, but friends just don't do that to each other." I felt terrible. "Can I be completely honest here?" She asked, and I nodded vigorously. "I think that when something-" _her parents' divorce,_ I thought- "happens to a person, the person reaches out to the first steady thing they find. For me, that was you. I needed you. You realize that?"

I looked at her carefully. She was really telling the fucking truth, anyone could see that. And I had no idea I had done that to her.

"Would you believe me if I told you I had no idea I was doing that to you?" I asked her carefully.

"That's why I told you." She was blushing, and I felt so fucking remorseful. I could never hurt this girl again. She was so innocent.

I took one of her hands in mine, and started tracing lines in it. I could feel her looking at me, but I didn't look up. Suddenly, I felt a hand in my hair, and I looked up at her. My hormones getting the better of me, I leaned in slowly, giving her time to break away. I brushed my nose softly against hers, and I heard her breath hitch. I touched my lips just barely to hers, so she could still fucking run away if she wanted to. I put my lips to hers again, and this time, she pushed her bottom lip in between mine, and she gave me a real kiss, throwing my pansy-ass shit out the window. She pulled away really quickly and pulled her hand out of my hair. She wouldn't look me in the eyes. I tilted her face up towards mine, and looked her dead on.

"Hey," I said softly. "What's wrong?"

"Reality check," She whispered. "Will you still act the same way around me when we're around other people? Don't use me. Don't make me fall if you aren't going to catch me." She looked me straight in the eye, waiting on my answer.


	6. Chapter 5

**A/N: This is really really short, my apologies. The story just doesn't flow well if I don't break it up right here, and the rest of the next part isn't written yet. I hope you guys don't get too mad at me for what I'm about to do... :]**

**PS: I just realized I haven't written a single disclaimer in any of these. Major oops. Edward and Bella and all things Twilight related do not belong to me.. that credit goes to Stephenie Meyer.**

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**He blinked, as though coming out of a haze. He cleared his throat, and suddenly, there was tension in the room.

"You know..." He pulled his hand away from mine slowly, and I felt a piece of my heart detach itself from the whole as he did. "You're right. I should... go."

I sat, frozen, unbelieving. He made to get up, and even though I was blocking the path to the door, I didn't- couldn't- move. He climbed over me awkwardly and slipped out the door. I heard his car start a second later, and I crawled to the end of my bed to watch him leave.

He never looked back.

I didn't remember getting out of bed, or taking a shower,or eating breakfast, or starting a load of laundry that had his clothes from the night before in it. All I could think was, _he's gone._ I played the last thing he said again and again in my mind, and then it was night again. I opened the door to my room and stopped short, met by the tainted sight of my unmade bed. I was drowning in loss. I pulled his clothes out from the laundry basket and slipped his t-shirt on, and I took a pillow and a blanket from the bed. I went to the chair in the corner of my room, finally allowing the tears to overtake me.

School the next day was... terrible didn't even begin to describe it. I sat in my first class just listening to his voice- not even the words he was saying... just his voice. He never spoke a single word to, or about, me. Not even when his friends asked where he'd gone after the party. When he casually told them to fuck off, my hopes plummeted, and I almost started crying again. I swore then that I would not let him see me cry.


	7. Chapter 5 Part 2

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**A/N: Hey guys. This chapter is short, so I'll upload two today, okay? :)**

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I blinked at her abruptness. I was suddenly overwhelmed by how much could have gone wrong last night. My world was not for her. The people I associated myself with did stupid shit like that all the time. She was much better than that, and I couldn't allow her to be dragged down to be with me.

"You know…" I took my hand from hers slowly, reluctantly, and I could see that I was going to hurt her with my next words. "You're right, I should… go."

She just sat there, not moving or saying anything. I was starting to get a little fucking worried. I got up and just fucking climbed over her, because what else could I do? Anything else I would say would just hurt her more. I went downstairs and slipped out the door. I went to my car, and I got in, and I just fucking sat there, staring at her window, wishing things could be different. I took a deep, unsteady breath and started the car. I got out of there in a fucking hurry, because I knew that if I saw her face again, all of my rational thinking would be toast.

When I got home, no one else was there- thank god- so I flipped on the TV, anxious and high strung and ready to just veg out. If time passed, I didn't notice. I thought, long and hard, about what the hell I was going to do. I would still see her every day for the next month and a half.

By the time I was done, I had decided three things.

I couldn't let her know how I actually felt. It would just hurt us both, and she probably wouldn't believe me anyway. She wouldn't accept it because of how I just fucking left today.

I couldn't let other people know how I actually felt. Not anybody. They would try to fuck with her, and fuck with me through her, and she would get hurt.

If I could protect her without her knowing, I absofuckinglutely would. I had power at the school- girls wanted to date me, guys wanted to be me- so I was sure this would be relatively easy.

School the next day was… an act. 100%. I sat in my first class just waiting for her to say something, equally hoping and dreading she would. I was barely listening to the words I was saying, mostly paying attention to her. When the guys from the party asked where I went afterwards, not that it was any of their fucking business, I told them to fuck off. No way in hell they were learning about that. Telling them that, now, would break two of my rules at once, because she would overhear. I had to keep her from this.


	8. Chapter 6

**A/N: Sorry for the long wait guys... school was terrible. Here's a happy chapter for you.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight or anything related. SMeyer does. And I also don't own a coffee shop named Lily's.

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**2 Years Later**

Eventually, I was able to pick up the shattered remains of my dignity and ignore him, just like he ignored me. I never did stop loving him, though- that piece of my heart remained stubbornly loyal. I went out with other boys, made new friends, had a good time. But I never stopped loving him.

I hit my alarm clock as it chirped loudly, and I peered out the window. It was a sunny day in Minneapolis. I had moved out here almost as soon as I graduated to start college at the University of Minnesota. I had quickly perfected a routine, which at the moment consisted of going for coffee at a local place just down the block from my apartment building. I got dressed and pulled my hair into a pony and headed out the door, locking up behind me.

I walked briskly in the fresh morning air. The crisp Minnesota mornings, along with the coffee, woke me up each morning. I quickly reached the little coffee shop, called Lily's, and the bell dinged as I stepped inside. The girl working behind the counter greeted me cheerfully; how she could be so perky in the mornings was beyond me. I ordered my usual and sat down at a small table next to the window. I picked up my coffee and took a refreshing sip... and then I jumped a foot in the air as someone tapped loudly on the glass behind me. I turned around, and there he was, a crooked smile plastered on his face.

He entered the shop, dinging the bell, and sat in the chair in front of me.

"Hi!" He said cheerily.

"Um... hi?" I said, an obvious question in my voice. Why was he here, of all places?

"'Sup?" He said, like he always used to.

"Nothin'," I said out of habit, and then, "Umm... why are you here?"

His face turned into a blank mask. "Ahm... I, er, needed a change of pace. No particular reason."

I waited for him to elaborate, but he didn't. "Okay... how about, why are you here, like, in this shop?"

His expression brightened as though I had flipped a switch, and he started rambling. "Oh! I saw you, and I really hoped it was you, 'cause otherwise it would have been _really _awkward, and I haven't seen you in... two years? So I wanted to say hi."

I studied him for a minute, a little concerned about his rambling- I had never heard him ramble in my life- and I didn't like what I saw. His face looked haggard, weary. Like he'd aged ten years instead of two. His face was leaner, but he looked gaunt. His expression, although cheerful at the moment, masked hidden pain. He had a small crease between his brows, and I found myself yearning to reach over the table and smooth it out. He was grinning crookedly, but the tension was thick. Awkward. I broke the silence.

"So... how have you been? Long time no see."

The mask reappeared. "Um. Well. Good. I guess. Not really. You?"

"Fine. Lots of college stuff to deal with. But it's okay. Lonely." I blushed as the truth came out unintended.

But he just looked at me, concern etched onto his face. I looked down, putting my hands on the table and fiddling with them. Like before, he put his hands on top of mine. The emotions came flooding back, and I stood up abruptly.

"I... I can't do this. Sorry." I grabbed my things and rushed out the door, hearing that stupid ding behind me... and then again as he followed me outside.

"Wait!" He shouted at me.

Because the feelings weren't gone, I paused. I didn't turn around, but I felt him come nearer. He stopped right behind me. I felt him lay a hand on my shoulder, and I tensed. He pulled his hand away quickly.

"Sorry... Listen, ah, I was wondering if... ifyouwanttogotolunch."

I turned around slowly. I quirked an eyebrow at him. "Lunch? Really? You haven't seen me in two years and you want to go to lunch?" I fought a smile. How cliche.

"Ah... yes?" For once, he was the one looking uncomfortable. He shifted his weight awkwardly.

"One condition," I told him. He waited expectantly. "Tell me why you're really here."

His face fell a little, and he smiled ruefully. "You always have been able to see right through me. Not much has changed there, huh?" He ran a hand through his hair. "Fine... I'll tell you. At lunch. Where should I pick you up?"

"I'll meet you here at 1," I said.

"It's a date," he said, and my heart jumped at the words, even though it was just an expression. I blushed and turned away, headed for home. I heard footsteps behind me, and I got annoyed- all of his actions towards me today had consisted of him following me in some way. I whirled around, prepared to tell him to bug off and forget about lunch.

Suddenly, I was wrapped in his careful, tight embrace. I stiffened, and then relaxed into him, wrapping my arms around his waist and pulling him to me. I buried my face in his shoulder as he breathed into my ear, "I missed you." He squeezed me gently one last time, and then he pulled away and walked in the other direction abruptly, leaving me flustered and stunned with my heart racing on the sidewalk.


	9. Chapter 6 Part 2

**A/N: So here it is. I'm running out of pre-written stuff for this, I'll have to work on that...**

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2 Years Later

Hell. Hell was my life, and my thoughts, and the general mood I had been living in. _Not your fault, not your fault, not your fault _was all I had heard, and I had gotten so fucking sick of it, sick of all the pitying glances, the accusatory stares. I couldn't take it anymore, and obviously neither could my mother, since she kicked me out the first chance she got.

That was a year ago, and when he died, all hopes anyone had about me going to college were shot. I knew he would have liked it, but I just couldn't fucking do it.

I moved around a lot, never staying long enough to get to know anyone. Seattle, Sacramento, Kansas City, Boise. Eventually I had made my way through North Dakota and across Minnesota to grand ol' Minneapolis. This city appealed to my artistic side, and since that had been a side I had spoiled during my wanderlust, it was perfect. For now.

I was wandering around again, walking down a street to my car, maybe to take a nap, when I saw it.

Brown hair, with reddish tints in the sunlight.

I knew whose head that hair belonged to.

I stopped and stared. It was her. It had to be. I tapped on the glass, and she jumped and spun around. I could feel the grin on my face, but I couldn't subdue it even a little. It was her. I walked briskly into the shop and sat in the chair facing her.

"Hi!" I said, still unable to mask my happiness.

"Um… hi?" She asked, obviously baffled by my random appearance.

"'Sup?" I asked, just to see if she still remembered.

"Nothin'," She said, and I did a little happy dance inside my head- she still remembered, and she didn't totally hate me, or I wouldn't be sitting here. "Umm…" She started tentatively, gathering my attention. "Why are you here?"

Why was I here, as opposed to Forks? I couldn't tell her that. Not so soon. I just got her- maybe. I couldn't scare her off. I couldn't risk seeing the pity face again. Especially on her. I had to protect her from that part of me. "Ahm… I, er, needed a change of pace. No particular reason." That was a bullshit answer, and I knew it, and so did she. She waited for me to say something else, but I couldn't.

"Okay… how about, why are you here, like, in this shop?"

This I could answer. "Oh! I saw you, and I really hoped it was you, 'cause otherwise it would have been really awkward, and I haven't seen you in… two years? So I wanted to say hi." I finished weakly. I was rambling. Fuck. She looked at me intently, and she looked concerned, but not pitying. Not yet. I grinned a little wider, hoping that maybe I'd hide a little of the hell that showed through on my face. There was a long, awkward silence.

"So…" She said. "How have you been? Long time no see."

Ugh. More talk about the past. But what else could she do, I guess? I avoided the question. "Um. Well. Good. I guess. Not really. You?"

"Fine. Lots of family stuff to deal with. But it's okay." She paused, and frowned a little. "Lonely." She blushed and my heart soared. I didn't realize I was hoping until now. Then I realized how sad and dejected she sounded, and I studied her like she had done to me. She looked down and messed with her hands. I put my hands on top of hers, needing to show her.

She stood up and pushed her chair back. "I… I can't do this. Sorry." She grabbed her stuff and ran out the door, away from me. I couldn't let her get away again. This time would be different.

So I followed her out the door.

"Wait!" I shouted. She hadn't gotten very far.

She stopped on the sidewalk, still facing away from me. I walked up to her, right behind her. I put a hand on her shoulder, but she tensed up, so I snatched it back, a little fucking nervous now. "Sorry." I tried not to sound too dejected. How was I going to prolong my time with her?

"Listen, ah, I was wondering if…" I gulped. "If you want to go to lunch." I rushed through it, barely able to fucking breathe. I needed to spend time with her. I couldn't explain the urge.

She turned around, and I could see that she was surprised I had asked. "Lunch? Really?" She asked, all skeptical and shit. I didn't know why she was asking. How much clearer could I get? I was so close to breaking a rule. She had to see how I acted around her. And I had already broken my third rule. I hadn't protected her from any sort of loneliness, which would have been so fucking easy. So now I had to start, for both my and her sake. I realized she was still waiting for me to answer her skepticism.

"Ah… yes?" I said, shifting my weight to the other foot, nervous as hell.

"One condition," she told me. "Tell me why you're really here."

Well, hell, she was a mind reader. I smiled a little. "You always have been able to see right through me. Not much has changed there, huh?" I ran a hand through my hair, debating. I could tell her parts. Not the whole truth. Just enough to satisfy her, and to keep her around a little longer. As long as I could get. "Fine," I conceded. "I'll tell you. At lunch. Where should I pick you up?"

"I'll meet you here at 1," she said.

"It's a date," I said, completely on purpose. She blushed and turned away, and I felt a sinking in my stomach as she walked away. A really fucking hardcore sinking, too. I just couldn't let her go. I started to walk towards her, not really sure what I was going to do, just knowing that I couldn't let her leave, not yet. She whirled around, all annoyed and shit, and I acted on what my gut was telling me to do.

I wrapped my arms around her carefully, but firmly. She stiffened, but I didn't let go, because after a second she relaxed again, and hugged me back, wrapping her arms around me and pulling me close. My heart soared- no, it took a fucking running jump off a cliff and _flew._ I whispered the truth into her ear: "_I missed you._" I squeezed her a little one last time, and then I turned around, wanting that to be the memory to tide me over until our lunch. I walked away without another word.

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**A/N: Review?**


	10. Chapter 7

**A/N: First, sorry for the delay, again! **

**Second, my characters say the word 'eh' a couple of times in this chapter. This is not to be confused with the Canadian 'eh' or the letter 'eh'. It's like saying um. Just to maximize your reading experience, I thought I'd better clarify. :]**

**Third, I do own a guitar, even though I can't play it yet. I do own way too many notebooks that are filled with way too much homework... and doodles. I do own a sketchbook that I love to use. **

**However, I _do not_ own any of the following: Twilight, Drops of Jupiter, the Perks of Being a Wallflower, and/or the Running Man.**

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_Crunch._

The lettuce leaves of my salad were the only thing that filled the uneasy silence. Fifteen minutes ago, he had met me exactly where I told him to. He drove the same little red car he had back in high school. Now, though, there was a sleeping bag and a pillow in the backseat. I hadn't thought much of it then, but now I was curious, and dying for something to break the silence. So I asked.

"Why is there a pillow and a sleeping bag in your backseat?"

"That's where I've been sleeping," he said ruefully.

"But... you're so tall, and your backseat's so tiny! That can't be comfortable."

He grimaced. "It isn't. But it's cheaper than a hotel, and I don't really have any friends here, so. Shit happens."

"Speaking of which," I started hesitantly. "You were going to tell me why you're here."

"Right," he said, and he stopped to run a hand through his hair. "Well. Eh, my mom kinda kicked me out. Um..." He took a deep, shaky breath, meeting my eyes across the table. "Two months ago, my... my dad died. My mom... hasn't been the same."

"Oh my god," I said softly. He had loved his dad- I'd heard about him so many times. I stood up.

"Don't leave!" He blurted. "I'm sorry, I'll stop." I could hear unshed tears in his voice.

"Don't be dumb." I walked around the table and offered my hand. He took it curiously, and I pulled him from his seat. I wrapped my arms tightly around his waist and hugged him. He slowly put his arms around my shoulders and clutched me to him. He lowerd his head to my shoulder and I squeezed him tighter. "I'm sorry," I whispered. He nodded his head into my neck wordlessly. It tickled a little, and he must have felt me tense because he pulled back quickly.

"Sorry, sorry," he said hurriedly.

"Hey," I said softly, laying a hand on his arm. He met my eyes, and when I saw his eyes rimmed in red, my heart went into my throat. "You wanna just forget lunch? You look like you could use some rest."

"Um... I appreciate your concern, but I don't sleep very well in my car. It'd do more harm than good."

I snorted. "I meant you could come home with me. I'd gladly give you my bed."

"I don't want to kick you out of your own bed," he said, frowning.

"Don't be a martyr. Let's go." I reached across the table for my purse to pay the tab, but he was already pulling out the correct amount from his wallet. I rolled my eyes and led the way to his car. We got inside and I pointed him in the direction of my apartment. I continued showing him where to turn, and soon enough we were parked in the lot behind the building. We got out and he grabbed a small bag from his backseat. I couldn't resist giving him another hug, but this time I pulled away quickly. He smiled his thanks at me, not seeming too bothered by my constant hugs. I smiled and led the way toward the door. We walked up the stairs to my apartment. I unlocked the door and pushed it open, fumbling in the dark for the light switch. The bright lights flooded the small living room, which had a small black leather couch, and a beat up old trunk that served as a coffee table. I looked around surreptitiously to make sure it was clean. It was all clear- no unmentionables laying around.

He was looking around, evidently intrigued, and I watched as he started to explore. I had no problem with him seeing my things. He walked over to the trunk and picked up one of the books that were scattered there.

"Good book," he said, holding it up so I could see the cover: The Perks of Being a Wallflower.

My eyebrows shot up. "Since when do you read?" I asked, impressed.

He laughed. "Always the tone of surprise. Since I realized that I'd better get my ass in gear if I wanted to do anything with my life."

I chuckled to myself as he continued his adventure. He wandered over to the kitchen, which was technically still in the living room, just separated by a counter. He didn't stop here long before turning around and walking back over to the bathroom.  
"Very nice," he said. "Remarkably clean."

"Hey, a clean bathroom is a happy bathroom," I said cheerfully.

"Eh, do you mind if I take a quick shower? I don't mean to intrude, but I probably reek."

"I don't mind," I said. "Make yourself at home."

As soon as he shut the bathroom door, I ran to my bedroom and gave it a cursory glance. I picked some dirty clothes up off the floor, and then I decided that it was satisfactory. I went to the kitchen to make us a mean. It was only 2:00, too late for lunch and too early for dinner, but we hadn't exactly eaten lunch, and I was excited to have someone else to eat my food. I took out everything I needed to make chicken Alfredo, and I turned on the radio. I cooked while I sang along.

_Did you finally get the chance to dance along the light of day_

_And head back to the milky way?_

_And tell me, did Venus blow your mind?_

_Was it everything you wanted to find,_

_And did you miss me while you were looking for yourself out there?_

_Can you imagine no love, pride, deep-fried chicken?_

_Your best friend always sticking up for you even when I know you're wrong?_

_Can you imagine no first dance, freeze dried romance, five-hour phone conversation,_

_The best soy latte that you ever had, and me?_

_Tell me, did the wind sweep you off your feet?_

_Did you finally get the chance to dance along the light of day,_

_And head back toward the milky way?_

_Tell me did you sail across the sun_

_Did you make it to the milky way to see the lights all faded_

_And that heaven is overrated_

_Tell me, did you fall for a shooting star_

_One without a permanent scar_

_And did you miss me while you were looking for yourself..._

The bathroom door opened, and there he was, in all his wet-haired glory. I tried to act casual.

"Thank you," he said. "I really appreciate it." He smiled and sat down on a bar stool across from me.

"No problem," I told him.

"Whatcha making?" He asked, inhaling deeply. "Smells good."

"Chicken Alfredo."

"Mmmm. My favorite."

"It's only got a few minutes left, and then you can have some. Unless you think you'll starve before then."

"You know, I think I might," he said with a straight face. "That delicious aroma is speeding the process."

"Oh, shut up," I said, checking the noodles. "It can't be that good."

"Oh, but it is," he said, grinning.

I finished making the food and dished two bowls out. I set one in front of him with a fork, and he dug in.

"Mmmm," he hummed his contentment around his food.

We ate in silence, but it was comfortable. I'd forgotten how easily he could make me relax.

Once we had finished, he stretched and yawned loudly. I chuckled.

"Okay, sleepyhead. Bedroom's over there, it's all yours." I indicated the only room he hadn't been in yet.

He rose and patted me on the shoulder as he walked behind me. The door closed with a small click, and I smiled. I was glad I could do something for him, no matter how insignificant. I walked to the couch and picked up the book I was currently working on, The Running Man by Stephen King. I lost myself in the book easily; reading had always been a passion of mine. Time passed quickly while I read, and afternoon merged into evening.

"No..." I glanced up at the bedroom door. "No!" He said, even louder. "STOP!" He was yelling, and I threw down my book and raced to the door.


	11. Chapter 8

**A/N: It's in on time! Really late at night... but still. :]**

**Disclaimer: I do own a lot of homework. And not very much spare time. I do not own Twilight or anything related to it. SMeyer does.  
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**I should let you guys know that eventually I'm going to be going through this story and fixing all my grammatical errors. So if you get a buncha updates from my story, don't be fooled, folks. This will not happen on a Thursday, though. Which, in case you haven't figured it out yet, is when I update. So don't get confused. Anyways...

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He was laying curled up in a ball in the middle of my bed, his hands fisting his hair, tears streaming down his face. I called his name, but he didn't wake up. I climbed on the bed and touched his hand lightly. I pried his fingers loose. He uncurled from his fetal position, and I laid down next to him, wiping the tears from his face. He opened his eyes slowly, blinking up at me.

"Hey," I said softly.

"Sorry." He made to sit up, but I pushed him back down.

"No," I said severely, like I should have that night. "Stay." I laid down again, and I wrapped an arm around his torso. I needed to comfort him. He heaved a sigh, and he put his hand over mine. Soon, his breathing slowed, and he relaxed. I watched him carefully for any sign that he was dreaming again, but he stayed perfectly calm. He mumbled something I didn't catch, and rolled over so he was practically squishing me. Before I could scoot away, he flung an arm around me and pulled me close. I chuckled quietly to myself. I was perfectly content to wait until he woke up. I pulled my arm from between us and brushed the hair out of his eyes. He leaned into my touch, and I continued to caress his face. I ran the tips of my fingers lightly down his temple, across his cheek, over his strong jaw bone. I touched his neck gently, and he hummed quietly. I pulled my hand away quickly, because I didn't want to disturb his sleep, and he stopped humming. His eyebrows knitted together, and he moved his face forward so our noses were almost touching. He sighed, and his breath washed over my face.

The urge to kiss him was overwhelming.

I shoved his arm off me and squirmed away from him to sit in the chair across from my bed. He groaned and lifted his hand to his face. He rubbed his eyes blearily.

"Why'd you leave?" He asked, his voice thick with sleep.

"You didn't want me to?"

He looked at me with a puzzled glance. "No? Why would I want you to?"

I chose not to answer this. "Don't you have a girlfriend or something?" I was looking for excuses, and I knew it. I didn't want to fall for him all over again. There was nothing worse than unrequited love.

He opened his eyes all the way and sat up, wide awake. "Why would you think that?" He was frowning now.

"I don't know. You're..." I gestured helplessly towards him. "_...you_. What girl wouldn't want you?"

He chuckled darkly. "Who says I would want them?"

I rolled my eyes. What a line. "You're lucky I already know you're a manwhore, otherwise I'd be intrigued. I might even start to want you."

"Would that be so terrible?" He murmured. He cleared his throat. "No, I don't have a girlfriend. Or a significant other of any kind. So I don't see the problem with you staying here-" he poked the pillow next to him- "with me. You know what I think?" He continued without letting me answer. "I think that you're making excuses. Why?"

I sighed, tucking my knees to my chest. "You really want to know." It was a statement, not a question. "Do you remember that night in April when you came to my house completely hammered?" I could see he did, so I continued. "That morning, you kissed me, and I thought that something was happening, that something was changing. You were my freaking beautiful rescue. I gave you one last chance to change your mind, to walk away... and you took it. You left. And we didn't talk again... until today. Can you see where I would need to be cautious right now?"

He nodded slowly. "I'm so sorry. I was a jerk in high school, I know that. I was stupid and I had my head way too far up my ass. I remember that night. I don't expect this to change anything, but I want you to know that the only reason I left that night was because I didn't want to hurt you. I was an ass, and I would have ended up ruining it. You remember Jessy?" Jessy was the girl he had started dating a month after that night. I nodded. "We lasted not even two months. She got sick of me being such a jerk to... well, everyone. It opened my eyes. I changed, I swear it."

I stayed silent, not confirming or denying anything, and his expression grew somber.

"I'm gonna sleep on the couch, I think." He took a pillow and a blanket from my bed and walked slowly out the door to the couch. I heard the leather squeak, and I sighed, laying my head on my knees. I had alienated him, this time by choice. I couldn't just trust him that he'd changed. It didn't work that way. Trust is something you earn. And he hadn't earned it.

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**A/N: Reviews are love. **

**Love me?  
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	12. Chapter 9

I must have fallen asleep, because the next thing I knew, it was dark, and I was hearing the beautiful melody of a guitar coming from the living room. I got up from the chair, grimacing at how stiff I was, and looked into the living room.  
He was beautiful.

Leaning over the guitar, playing it with such care, he was amazing. His hair fell into his eyes, shielding them from my view. He tapped his foot lightly to the beat of the music. He took a breath and started to sing.

_"So I'll sing a melody_

_And hope to God she's listening_

_Sleeping softly while I sing_

_And I'll be your memories_

_Your lullaby for all the times_

_Hoping that my voice could get it right_

_If luck is on my side tonight_

_My clumsy tongue will make it right_

_And wrists that touch_

_It isn't much, but it's enough_

_To form imaginary lines_

_Forget your scars, we'll forget mine_

_The hours change so fast_

_Oh God, please make this last."_

I knew that song. It had been my favorite in high school, and I felt large, hot tears of nostalgia drip down my cheek as the soft notes of the bridge hummed in my apartment, and in my ears, and in my heart. Waves of nostalgia overwhelmed me, and I sat down in the doorway. He didn't seem to notice me.

_"And you could crush me_

_But please don't crush me_

_'Cause baby I'm a dreamer for sure_

_And I won't let you down_

_I swear this time I mean it.._."

As he finished the last verse of the song, suddenly I knew that he knew I was watching, and the words were aimed directly at me. And the lyrics fit perfectly, and it was like a scene from a movie for a minute.

He looked up, meeting my eyes. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to wake you up... or make you cry," he said. He set the guitar againsth the side of the couch.

I waved him off. "I'm just being emotional," I chuckled wetly. "That was beautiful," I added. "I didn't know you could play."

He nodded. "One of the things I learned after high school. That song was my inspiration. It reminded me of... certain people."

He had been about to say 'you,' I knew it. "Can I hear more?" I asked timidly.

He smiled broadly, and patted the couch next to him, gesturing for me to sit. I did, leaving him elbow room. He picked up the guitar and began to play, and I recognized the song immediately: First Day of My Life by Bright Eyes.

After that, he played Daughters by John Mayer. This was a favorite song of mine, and I realized that the lyrics to this song were oddly similar to our situation. I watched him play the whole time. He was amazing, and I couldn't imagine how much time and effort he put into learning these songs. I was jealous of his obvious talent. He started singing slower songs, like Lullaby by Shawn Mullins. I started nodding off halfway through Flightless Bird, American Mouth by Iron and Wine, and I yawned hugely. He glanced over me and chuckled.

"Sorry," I said. I checked the time on the microwave- it was two in the morning already.

"You should go to bed," he told me seriously, "I won't keep you up."

"No!" I protested. "I... don't want you to leave. I just... need a distraction from life right now." The phone rang, loudly, and I sighed. "Speaking of which," I said dryly. I gave him the 'one minute' finger, and I got up to answer the phone in the kitchen.

"Hello?"

"Hi, honey!" My mom said cheerfully.

"Hi, ma...om." I wasn't' supposed to call her 'ma.' "How are you?"

"I'm great." I waited for the words that were sure to come. "Have you talked to your dad lately?"

I sighed inaudibly. "Yes, three days ago."

"Do you know when he's supposed to pick the kids up? He won't answer my calls."

_I wonder why_, I thought sarcastically. "No, I don't. Mom, I live half a country away. This isn't my problem anymore. It never should have been in the first place."

"Fine," she said huffily. "I don't know why I even call anymore, you're never nice to me. That hurts my feelings. I have to go. Love you, bye!" The last bit was seeping with false cheer, and I felt my throat constrict without waiting for a reply. I set the phone on the counter and hugged myself, taking a few deep breaths before I turned around and walked back to the couch. I sat down and didn't meet his eyse.

"So... I'm guessing that was your mom?" He asked.

"Yupp." I popped my lips on the 'p.'

"And, correct me if I'm wrong, she's still being a bitch."

I stayed silent.

"Wanna talk about it?" He asked gently.

I heaved a sigh. "Whenever she calls, she'll tell me all the fun things they're doing at home, and then bitch about my dad. She gets mad at me when I give her short answers, and she never asks how I'm doing. It's like she's not even my mom anymore." I sniffled, and more tears dripped onto my jeans, staining spots a dark blue. He put an arm around my shoulders tentatively, and when I didn't shrug him off, he turned me, pulling my legs across his lap. He hugged me tight, and I finally let it all out.

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**A/N: Sorry for the skip last week. No excuse this time... just apologies. **

**I do not own Twilight, I Swear This Time I Mean It by Mayday Parade, First Day of My Life by Bright Eyes, Daughters by John Mayer, Lullaby by Shawn Mullins, or Flightless Bird, American Mouth by Iron and Wine. But I do recommend that you listen to those songs. They're amazing.  
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	13. Chapter 10

**A/N: So, here it is.  
GUESS WHAT! No, don't guess, I'll tell you. I got a laptop for Christmas! Which means… I have Microsoft Word! Which means… I have spell check! No more ghastly spelling errors! And an easier way to correct my previous mistakes, which I promise you I will be doing soon. And also hopefully longer chapters. Just so you know, I am totally making this up as I go along. No idea where this is headed. That having been said, I would love to hear your ideas! Even if they're completely vague and have nothing to do with the story. I need inspiration.**

**I'm toying with the idea of doing a chapter that's already been written in his POV as kind of an extra. Which one would ya'll suggest I do?**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight. Or the song It's Not a Trap, I Promise, by Go Radio. But I do recommend listening to that song. In case you haven't noticed, I really enjoy throwing a song into my writing whenever I can. Music is huge to me. Now, without further ado, chapter 10:**

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I heaved a sigh.

"Do we really have to do this?" I asked again.

"Yes! It's time to nut up or shut up! Now come on." He frog-marched me across the parking lot through the crowds of people. We got to the gate and he showed the guard our tickets. The guard showed us our seats- not that he needed to be shown, with how many zillions of times he's been to baseball games- and I looked around the Target field. Going to a Twins game was entirely his idea. I could count the number of baseball games I had watched on one hand- and half of them had been his, way back in middle school. He had pitched for the varsity team. I knew absolutely nothing about baseball, and he felt the need to change that.

We sat down and I looked around. It was amazing, how crazy people get about sports. People had face paint on their… well, everywhere. They were cheering already, and the game hadn't even started yet.

"I really don't see the point in this," I told him cheerfully. "Baseball isn't a life skill I'll need to survive, you know."

He rolled his eyes. "Don't be so sure," he warned me. "You never know. What if some maniacal baseball fanatic kidnaps you and the only way you can save yourself is to prove you have decent knowledge about baseball? And besides, baseball is the American pastime. Sheesh."

"Sheesh yourself!" I hit his arm lightly. "You can't even cook!"

"I don't need to, I've got your cooking." I had made him waffles that morning, from scratch, and he had decided that my cooking was to die for.

"You have to learn sometime… because it _is _a skill you'll need to survive."

"I'll learn if you'll teach me," he bargained.

"Deal," I agreed.

The rest of the game passed in an uneventful blur. After the game was over, we walked back to the car, laughing and chatting. Even though it was late, I pointed in the direction of a grocery store and he pulled into the lot. He turned off the car and looked at me curiously.

"How tired are you?" I asked him.

"Not very…"

"Then I'm going to teach you how to cook tonight." I knew exactly what recipe I wanted to teach him.

As we walked down the aisles, looking for what I needed, I hummed along to the song that was on the intercom.

'_Cause she keeps the sun from all of Florida in her jacket,_

_And I laugh, 'cause I don't think she knows she has it,_

_And it's days like today, life gets great…_

Suddenly, my hand was in his, and he was spinning me. He put a hand on my lower back and dipped me. I looked at the grin on his face and burst out laughing. He pulled me upright, and he kept an arm around my waist. He put my hand on his shoulder and took my other hand again, turning us in slow circles, entirely out of time with the upbeat music. I leaned my head against his chest as he began to hum his own melody. We spun in another tight circle in the middle of the bread aisle. He spun me and dipped me again as his impromptu song came to a close.

I looked at him, smiling a goofy smile, and he just grinned. There was something to be said for spontaneity in the grocery store.

We finished picking out groceries in a comfortable silence. When we reached the checkouts, I heaved the basket onto the counter and pulled my wallet out. That's when I noticed the blonde girl standing behind the counter, who was wearing a low-cut white shirt and black, very tight, slacks as her uniform. Her hair looked curled to the point of being fried, and she had loads of makeup on. Underneath the makeup, her expression made it apparent that she was undressing him in her mind. She smacked her gum obnoxiously, and I shuffled my feet and hid behind my hair, suddenly insecure. I felt a big arm wrap around my shoulder, and I looked at him to see him staring at me curiously.

"That's $22.49," the girl said snidely, still staring him down. I pulled the correct amount out of my wallet and handed it to her. His arm around me tensed, and I looked at the girl. She was sucking the end of her pen seductively, obviously trying to get a little attention. He, on the other hand, was still not making eye contact with her, still looking at me with concern. She printed my receipt and scribbled something on it, and then she handed it to him. Not me. He grabbed the groceries with one hand, keeping his arm around me, and we walked out of the store silently. He tossed the receipt behind him and put the groceries in his now- empty backseat. I got in the car meekly, my self-confidence still recovering. He got in but didn't start the car.

"What's your issue?" he asked softly.

"Did you not notice that girl?"

"I did."

I didn't say anything. I didn't even look up, even though I could feel his eyes on me.

"You aren't jealous, are you?" When I still didn't answer, he scoffed. "You have nothing to be jealous of. Girls like her… they're easy. Desperate. They only want fucking attention, nothing else. They're shallow. You're so much more than that. Every minute I spend with you, I realize that you're complex and passionate and… _real_. You're nothing like those girls. You're so much better."

I looked up at him slowly, blushing a lot, smiling a little. "Well. I'm glad you think so," I said softly.

He nodded, satisfied, and started the car, heading for home.


	14. Author's Note

**Author's Note:**

**Hi, guys.**

**I've decided that I'm not going to put my story on Ffn anymore, now it's going on LiveJournal. So just head over there to check it out and stuff okay? All the chapters are already up and in order but it's a huge mess because I'm a n00b.**

**http: / dkamarieka357 . livejournal . com/**

**You know the drill, delete the spaces.**


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